


His Name Is Gates

by cartoonjunkie



Category: Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior, Flypaper (Movie), Matt Ryan (Actor) - Fandom
Genre: Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Brothers, Crime, Crossover, FBI Agent, Head-Canon, M/M, Twins, bank robber, criminal, matt ryan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartoonjunkie/pseuds/cartoonjunkie
Summary: Twin brothers separated at birth, one seeking justice the other turned to a life of crime... Mick Rawson may be in the Suspect Behavior division of the FBI, but that doesn't stop him from tracking down his brother Rupert Gates (presumed dead) in his spare time...





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> (Just a head-canon concept involving two characters that actor Matt Ryan has played)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick Rawson has been pursuing this criminal for years, and finally has them right where he wants...

BANG BANG BANG

The sound of gunfire echos violently throughout the abandoned warehouse building. Mick Rawson, a special agent for the FBI is crouched down behind a pallet of containers with his gun in hand, waiting for his chance to continue his pursuit of the alleged assailant. He had been tracking this suspect for years, but every time he’d get close something would interfere and his lead would be lost. Plus its very distracting when you’re main line of work is for a Behavioral Analysis Unit, but working for the FBI definitely has its perks, like being able to gather data on other case files that aren’t a part of your division. Sure it was a risky thing to trade files outside your jurisdiction, but it was a risk Mick was willing to take if it meant he could finally bring this elusive bastard to justice. To anyone else it’d be ridiculous to spend all your available free time trying to track down one guy. And truth be told Mick had long since forgotten what initially prompted this little obsession of his, but after several long years he finally had the guy within reach, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t seize this moment.

He’s operating on his own out here. No resources or backup. He’s completely off book and knows good and well the consequences of his actions means handing over his badge, but he couldn’t care less or let this opportunity go to waste. Not when he’s closer than he’s ever been to his target, who’s not even two yards away firing their gun back at him. And Mick’s been counting, ten, eleven, twelve... CLICK

There’s a pause and Mick makes his move. He darts out from behind the containers and starts running after the assailant. He chases after the other, turning corners and dodging past obstacles the suspect has knocked over to try and slow Mick down. They turn another corner and enter a long hallway, the assailant is left wide open and Mick has enough time to steady his gun.

“FREEZE FBI!”

The suspect slows to a halt. Tired but also knowing there was no where left for them to run or anything left to hide behind in this spacious hallway. Mick was an expert sniper after all, which meant he was equally skilled with a handgun and didn’t want to run the risk of getting shot.

“Hands above your head! Do it now!” His welsh accent resonating throughout the hall.

The suspect lifts up their arms in compliance, but in the process takes off the face guard they had been wearing to conceal their identity. Mick keeps his gun trained as the other slowly begins to turn around towards him. All the voices inside his head were screaming at him to tell the criminal to stop and continue his arrest, but his mouth remained shut. Mick knows more about this criminal than he does himself, despite all that he has never actually seen the face of the one he’s been chasing after for so long. Until now.

Mick’s eyes widen in bewilderment, finally seeing the face of the man he’s been obsessed with capturing for the first time. Their face, is exactly the same as his face. Same dark eyes, same cheek bones, same smile. Only visible difference is the mop of unkempt blonde hair that is obviously bleached to cover up what would be his natural brown hair, the same color as his hair.

As Mick continues to stare in disbelief his gun begins to lower a little in thought.

“R-Rupert Rawson?” He asks with slight hesitation in his voice.

The other shakes his head before replying. “Gates.”

And with that single spoken word all of Mick’s suspicions were confirmed, he had the same accent as Mick which could only mean one thing. The man he was holding at gunpoint was none other than his long lost twin brother, who he believed to be dead.

Mick stands there in complete disbelief, still unable to process the new information that had just been revealed to him. Using this time to his advantage, Gates glances over at the window to his right and with one swift step he thrusts himself at it. The glass shatters as his body breaks through the barrier and lands in a alleyway several feet below with an expert tuck and roll. Mick snaps out of his daze and rushes over to the broken window, he looks down at his brother as he rises to his feet and dusts off the bits of glass and dirt. Gates looks up at the window he had just broken through and at his brother standing above him. He flashes Mick a quick smirk before running off into the jungle of empty warehouses.

Mick watches his brother escape. Eluded yet again by the man who he’d been obsessed with capturing for years, but this time it wasn’t just some faceless criminal, it was his brother... and Mick can’t help silently smile back.


	2. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micks life has gone downhill since he encountered his twin brother, but how much futher down can he go?

An alarm clock blares on the bedside nightstand, the sound startling Mick and thrusting himself upright in his bed. His skin is covered head to toe in a sheen of cold sweat causing his night shirt and boxers to stick to the contour of his lean, but built body and detailing the outline of his tired muscles. He rubs his forehead with the back of his hand then releases an exerted sigh. Another bad dream to add to the countless others he’s had lately. It had been several months since his run-in with his identical twin brother, and Mick hasn’t had a decent night sleep since. His mind was preoccupied every waking second by the events that occurred that day, and everything that lead up to it. But the one thing Mick just can’t seem to wrap his mind around; how is Gates still alive?

Although Mick remembers growing up as an only child, he couldn’t deny feeling there was something missing in his life. And the only reason he found out about his brother at all was because of the numerous background checks required before joining the FBI. It came as a relief to Mick. Thinking just maybe the reason for all his pent up emotions growing up were likely because of his subconscious connection to his brother, but soon all that joy was quickly snuffed out when all the records found indicated that his brother was labeled ‘deceased’. No details on why or how. Just dead. It was a cold case and that meant it hadn’t been resolved in over twenty years. It was set aside like any other unsolved crime. The very same type of crimes that he and his former behavioral analysis unit were assigned to, but not anymore. Not only had it been several months since his first encounter with his twin brother, but also several months since he was discharged from the FBI.

Now there he was. Living alone and barely scraping by with what little savings he had left. The only available work he was able to find since being discharged from the FBI was a security guard position for the apartment complex he was currently staying at. Though it wasn’t as thrilling as being an FBI agent Mick was still appreciative for the job, having worked out a deal with the property owner who owed Mick a couple of favors anyway.

Mick rises to his feet and lazily lumbers over to the bathroom, stepping over piles of scattered paper, dirty clothes and the occasional empty beer can. After taking a piss Mick stops in front of the mirror to glance at his face. Despite all the reassuring compliments he’s heard over the years from the girls he used to bring home, he’s never really liked his features much. Then again, who doesn’t like the look of their own face? We’re all our own worst critics and Mick was no different. Only this time, he down right wanted to punch himself in the jaw. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to be reminded of the bastard who ruined his life every time he passed by the god damn mirror? The longer he looks at himself the more disgusted he feels. His hair is a tussled mess, his beard is long and patchy, his body feels grimy and gross. Fuck it all!

Mick moves to turn on the shower and peel off the dirty night shirt from his sweat sticky body. He’s just about to remove his boxers when he hears a knock coming from the front door.

“Bloody hell.” Mick curses under his breath.

Mick stomps over and answers the door wearing nothing but his underwear. He doesn’t bother to cover himself back up because he’s half hoping whoever is at the door will take one look at him and kindly piss off. The door swings open and in the hallway stands a young girl, the nineteen year old daughter of the property owner. It looked like she had been in the middle of cooking something seeing that she was wearing an apron with what looked like flour and grease stains on it. An unmistakable blush was staining her cheeks, obviously surprised to see Mick standing practically half naked in front of her.

“Hi... Um, sorry if I’m bothering you. A man asked me to bring this up. Said it was important you got it right now.”

The girl holds up a large yellow mailing envelope with no address or stamps, only the letters ‘M I C K’ in bold black sharpe are written on the front. Mick’s eyes go wide with panic and swears he can feel his blood turn cold. He steps forward hastily causing the young girl to jump back in fright as he quickly looks both ways up and down the hall before looking back down at the girl. He grabs her by the shoulders, eliciting a shriek from the confused frightened young woman before pulling her into his room.

“Who was he- Did he give you a name- How long ago did did he give you the parcel?” Mick shouts in a frenzy at the poor girl.

“J-just a few minutes ago.” She frantically replies.

Mick releases the girl and rushes over to his window, looking up and down the street below for a sign of anything out of the ordinary. A person. A vehicle. Anything.

“Were you the only one who interacted with him? Did you get a good look at him?”

“What?” The girl asks still a bit shook up from the whole situation.

“His face! Did you see his face at all? What did he look like?” The sound of desperation growing in his voice.

“I don’t know, he had a hat on and sunglasses!”

“Bollocks!” Mick yells, smacking over a half empty beer can from a nearby counter.

His breath comes out in heavy huffs from all the frustration welling up inside him. He glances over at the girl still standing in the doorway, her shoulders tense and looking at the ground ashamed and scared. Mick shakes his head, disappointed at himself for lashing out at the unknowing young woman. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down the best he can and remembering his BAU training.

“Sorry.” He says much more calmly, approaching the girl once more. “It’s not your fault. I shouldnt’ve lashed out like that, but I really need you to think. If there’s anything you can remember, anything at all about that man, I need you to tell me. Can you do that for me, love?”

Even though it’s the last thing he feels like doing, Mick does his best to give the girl a reassuring smile.

“That!” The girl exclaims.

“Huh?”

“I remember that. His smile. It looked a lot like yours.”

Mick’s heart drops like a stone brick all the way down to the pit his stomach. Gates was here. The bastard was right here. Here in this very same building not moments ago, and he didn’t even know it. The room goes deathly silent and Mick lumbers absentmindedly back over to his bed and slumps down onto it, feeling a torrent of mixed emotions coursing trough his tired body. Most of all, he feels defeated. Eluded, yet again by the one man who ruined his life.

The young girl who was left standing in the doorway slowly walks over to Mick, the large yellow envelope still in her hand. She sets it on the night stand next to him before quickly turning around and scurrying out the door in a rush to get as far away as possible, leaving Mick behind to wallow in his resurfaced self loathing.

He lays there for a while, sulking to himself. Feeling like a complete failure all over again. He looks over at the envelope, just now noticing the rectangular indentation of its still unopened contents. He half heartedly hopes its a bomb. Maybe that’ll put him out of his bloody misery. He daydreams about that for a few minutes, before reaching over and ripping the envelope open. However what ends up falling out is not a bomb, but an old Nokia mobile with a single folded note taped to it.

[ Long time no see ]

As soon as the last word registers in Mick’s brain the cell phone rings in his hand. The screen illuminates with the words ‘unknown number’, but the sinking feeling in Mick’s stomach knows exactly who’s calling. His thumb instinctively presses the green answer button and then raises the small electronic device up to his ear. He swallows the lump in his throat before letting out a low raspy ‘hello’ into the receiver of the mobile phone.

There’s a short pause before the word is repeated back to him, almost identical like a trained parrot.

“Hello... brother.”


End file.
